Of Alleys and Angels
by Almyra
Summary: Early in their marriage, Anakin and Padme steal a few precious moments together and decide to break the rules yet again.  Character study masquerading as a fluffy vignette.  Rated for very tame innuendo.


**AN:** Yes, I do have other things I should be working on (and am!). No, I'm not sure where this came from. (glares at muses) But I do hope you enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** No, nothing belongs to me. No credits have changed hands. Nope. Nosirree. Nada.

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**Of Alleys and Angels**

"_Psssst!"_

The low, sharp hiss came from Padmé's right, and slowly, keeping her hand on the silver hilt of her small blaster, she peered around the edge of her cloak's hood. A small alleyway opened into dank filth, but the Senator could see no one. She slowed her walking pace to a meander and squinted.

The next moment, a shape materialized in the gloom where before there had been nothing – a tall being, heavily shrouded and shadowed. Padmé felt her heart lurch in surprise and dread, and she gripped the blaster hilt tighter. "Do you call this a diplomatic solution, mi'lady?" a low voice asked, the hint of a teasing smile layered beneath the menace.

Unfazed by the inanity of the question, Padmé instead smiled back with nearly palpable delight. "Unfortunately, yes," she said, turning fully to face the alleyway. "At this point, it is far superior to aggressive negotiations."

Without any warning and before she'd even drawn breath to exclaim in shock, she was swept into the folds of the dark brown cloak by invisible, inexorable hands. "Anakin," she managed, looking up into the startling blue eyes of her Jedi husband as he drew off his hood.

His response was to kiss her senseless, something to which she willingly, blissfully, thrillingly succumbed, "Oh, Ani," she murmured when their lips parted at last, resting her head against his chest, feeling it fit neatly into the hollow of his throat, his chin coming to rest gently on top of her hair, her own hood falling back.

"Padmé," he responded, and her happiness deepened as it always did to hear her name spoken in the dusky tones of her lover's voice.

"Say it again," she prompted, and his arms tightened around her like steel bands, the strength in them comforting and strangely exhilarating. "Oh, please, say it again."

"Padmé," Anakin murmured, kissing the top of her head, his breath warm against her hair. "My angel, my darling, my love, my life. Padmé, beloved."

The young woman sighed in pure contentment and snuggled up against him in spite of the thick folds of her gown and both cloaks. "Hold me closer," she requested, simpering, her own arms twined around his torso, fingers caught and tangled in the supple leather of his tabards. "Closer!" she urged rather melodramatically when he willingly complied. "Closer!"

Anakin chuckled, the amusement in his voice making her smile as well. "Padmé, sweetheart, if I hold you any closer, I'll be in back of you."

She drew back slightly to look up at him, and raised her eyebrow suggestively. "I wouldn't mind at all, Ani."

He grinned, a brilliant flash of even white teeth, and she shivered at the sudden heat crisping the edge of his rather predatory smile and at the sharpened focus in his shadowed eyes. "Neither would I," he said and bent to capture her lips with his own, the passion always seething just beneath his surface finding release, taking shape, and leaving her breathless.

"No," Padmé managed, struggling a bit and finding herself unable to move; the protective circle of her husband's arms had become an inescapable, unbreakable prison. "No, not here, nerfherder – ooh!" She broke off with a gasp as Anakin buried his face in her neck, oblivious to her protests, and placed several moist kisses right along the sensitive spot beneath her ear.

"No?" he asked in his best bedroom voice, the dark, throaty purr that always, _always_ melted her strongest resistance, turned her limbs to water, and left her a little puddle of need wherever and whenever he chose to employ it. Damn him.

A strangled noise somewhere between a growl and a whimper escaped Padmé's throat, and, straightening, Anakin smirked. "No?"

She squawked once, twice more before finally recovering her equilibrium. "No!" she exclaimed, "Anakin, we're in an alley. A disgusting, polluted, reeking alley at that. On a lower city level. Do you want to end up an item on the evening news?"

The young man quirked his lips. "Do not underestimate my powers," he warned smugly, "I could keep us hidden _and_ off the ground."

"I don't doubt it," Padmé replied conciliatorily, and her tone softened further as she drew her hand gently across his cheek. "I'm sorry, Ani, I know. But please, let's wait until we're home tonight, all right? Please?"

For a moment, her husband said nothing, his eyes suddenly serious and searching her own, and then he nodded. "All right, Padmé," he replied, "I'm sorry, too – I don't _really_ want to make love here." He kissed her tenderly. "And I would never force you, you know that, right?"

"I do," she said, accepting his apology, and he kissed her again.

"It's just, well, hard," he continued, and the young woman bit her tongue before she could giggle at the obvious, completely innocent double-entendré. "I love you so much, Padmé."

The earnest, raw honesty with which he had won her colored his voice now, and she smiled up at him, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "I love you, too, Ani. With all my heart. Always."

Anakin smiled back, full of contented happiness. "I don't deserve it," he said.

"You probably don't," Padmé replied, teasing, and his tenderness morphed into the self-satisfied smirk she knew so very well.

Pulling her hood back over her elaborate hairstyle, he gave it a tug down over her face before he settled it in place. "Cheeky little bantha," he said, flipping his own hood up with a swift, practiced motion. "You hungry?"

Padmé resisted the urge to make another provocative response and instead turned so her arm was now tucked securely into his. "Yes," she answered, letting her tone do the talking. "Did you want to head back to the apartment?"

He hesitated, and she realized something else must be at war with the temptation she offered. Something serious. Usually he gave in to his desire without a second thought, and right now she knew he wanted her as badly as she wanted him.

"Actually, I thought I might take you out tonight," her husband said, hopefully, and almost rather shyly – a rarity for him.

The young woman drew back, surprised, and just as quickly, resigned. Why must he always do this? Now she had to be the sensible one yet again, and she spared a thought of hatred towards the circumstances forcing her to deny them this pleasure. "That could be too dangerous, Ani. We really shouldn't."

"I know." Anakin shook his head, and she could see the frustration in the gesture. "But I want to do it anyway. And we really _should_ do it anyway. Just for tonight. Just for this once."

Silence fell between them, and Padmé tried to force the refusal past the knot clogging her throat. She stared up into his burning blue eyes, trying to make him see that she understood, but she meant what she said. The risks _were_ too great.

Anakin pushed her hood back slightly with gentle fingers, just enough for him to clearly distinguish her features.

"Please," he whispered, "Let's pretend. Let's pretend we're normal. Let me treat you to dinner as your friend and more importantly, as your husband. I know just the place. We won't be recognized. I know the owner pretty well. He'll be discreet - completely."

She simply tightened her jaw, still rendered mute. Force help her, she wanted to say yes; she did. _Oh, Anakin…_

"Please, Padmé. _Please_. For me. For _us_. Please."

The naked, unashamed longing in his expression and in his voice viciously tore at her resolve and thoroughly undermined her common sense. Within a heartbeat, once more she found herself acquiescing to the impossible and agreeing to do what ought not to be done. Anakin was an unstoppable force; he would not – could not – be denied.

"Very well, Ani," Padmé said, and with the release of her duty, she actually felt a flicker of excitement ignite within her at the romantic possibility of something as boringly normal as a meal eaten out with her husband. "I trust you."

The radiance of his smile nearly blinded her, and the force of his enthusiastic kiss rocked her back on her heels. "Thank you!" he exclaimed, kissing her again fiercely. "Oh, Padmé, thank you. I _love_ you."

She grinned at him and pressed herself to his side as he led them out of the alley and merged with the flow of beings crowding the walkway outside. "Yes, Ani," she said. "I know."


End file.
